


Sometimes drowning looks an awful lot like swimming

by SaraFantastic92



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Arwen and Eowyn are mentioned but not present, Blow Job, Body Positivity, College AU, Communication, Depression, Gimli is hot, Hand Job, Internalized Homophobia, Legolas and Aragorn are roommates, M/M, Making Out, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Swearing, There are two beds but they only use one of them, There's a coffee shop involved, oh yeah Gimli and Legolas are the main couple, unexpected love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:08:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26907898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaraFantastic92/pseuds/SaraFantastic92
Summary: Legolas is just trying trying to make it through the day really. He's an unemployed college grad just trying to find anything to anchor himself down. Well, not anything. Certainly not the hunk he's been crushing on for months showing up naked in his bathroom. But Gimli is smitten by the blushing, nervous blond, and he'll do anything to coax Legolas out of his shell. Gimli has been disowned by his father and needs a place to stay, and Aragorn has conveniently offered to let Gimli stay in their guest room while he vacates the premises to make out with his football bro boyfriend. Will Legolas let this opportunity slip by like so many others, or will he give happiness a chance?
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Boromir (Son of Denethor II), Arwen Undómiel/Éowyn, Gimli (Son of Glóin)/Legolas Greenleaf
Comments: 4
Kudos: 79





	Sometimes drowning looks an awful lot like swimming

**Author's Note:**

> This was born out of some content cut from my other fic, The Wanting Comes in Waves. I'm not usually one for a college AU, but the idea wouldn't leave my brain, so this is what came of it. This was supposed to be a short, one chapter fic but it kind of got out of hand. Whoops. While this is all I'm planning for now, I might revisit to look at some other characters in this AU and maybe will come back to Legolas and Gimli at some point.  
> Let me know what you think! This is my first smut and I'm mostly guessing over here lol. Thanks, and enjoy!

Gimli whipped the shower curtain back, the soft plastic crinkling satisfactorily in his large hand. The hard plastic rings skittered across the curtain rod, steam from the shower curling into the rest of the bathroom as cold light from the window above the shower/bath combo streamed in. He could see the steam rising from his skin, the warmth of the shower being seeped away by the cold February air. Gimli scrunched his hair close to his head, trying to ring excess water from his long, wiry locks as the door to the bathroom burst open.

Gimli stared at the tall, thin stranger who was wearing earpods and had walked in like he owned the place. The stranger pawed through a pile of beauty products on the counter between the two sinks and selected a container of eye cream before looking over at the naked man still standing in the shower, aghast. 

The blond man screamed. Gimli screamed. The blond man dropped his eye cream and spun around, yelling apologies while Gimli tore the towel from the towel rack and quickly wrapped it around his waist, yelling back that it was okay and just an accident. The stranger bolted from the small room, slamming the door behind him. Gimli rubbed his eyes with his damp hand. What the fuck.

***

Legolas tore down the steep stairs, making for the kitchen where he knew Aragorn would be brewing up some new latte experiment. He was so flustered he didn’t even notice when he dropped one of his earbuds on the stairs. All he knew when he got to the kitchen was that he had twisted his ankle on the final step and that he could only hear the melodic tones of Sufjan Stevens in his left ear. He quickly removed the distracting earbud, waiting for Aragorn to acknowledge him after finishing the delicate cinnamon dusting on his latest creation.

“Legolas, just in ti-” 

Legolas didn’t care that he interrupted Aragorn - the current architecture major was used to it. “Who’s in the bathroom upstairs?”

“Oh, Gimli?” Aragorn said, knowing that Legolas recognized the newly minted grad student. “You don’t shower until the evenings, so I thought you wouldn’t mind. We have the same lunch shift at the coffee shop, and I told him he could shower here before we left.”

“You could have told me! I just-” Legolas trailed off, his pale complexion not doing him any favors. Aragorn finally looked up from his drink tinkering, or “drinkering” as he liked to call it. One glance at his friend’s red face told Aragorn everything he needed to know. 

“You didn’t knock?”   
“I never knock!” Legolas knew he was pouting, but he couldn’t help it. “You always lock the door and you’re always done showering before I get up anyways!”

Aragorn laughed, sliding one of the three mugs in front of Legolas. “I’m sure it wasn’t that big a deal. Gimli is very-”

“Large? Muscly? Tattooed?” Legolas offered, head in his hands. Aragorn knew he had a type, and probably set this up just to embarrass his roommate.

“Now, I’m not that large.” The broad accent sent a shiver down Legolas’s spine as he turned slightly, still looking through his fingers to the stranger now dressed in dark wash jeans. Though he was still bare chested, a towel was resting on his shoulders so his hair didn’t drip water on the fake wood of the kitchen floor. The stranger, Gimli, held out a right earpod, and Legolas could feel his intestines turning to ash from embarrassment as he reached out to accept it. 

Aragorn laughed, slapping Gimli on the shoulder. Even through the damp towel, Legolas could see the outline of muscle and he wanted to kick Aragorn. Completely unaware of Legolas’s current struggles, Aragorn squeezed the shoulder. “We love and respect short kings in this house.” Aragorn delivered the statement completely straight faced and if he wasn’t so angry, Legolas would’ve joined Gimli in laughter. 

“Lad, there’s not a person in this house that’s under 5’10”.”

Legolas was going to protest that Eowyn was maybe 5’7”, but when he opened his mouth to speak, Gimli turned his attention to Legolas and all words and thoughts left the thin man’s head. Aragorn smirked at his roommate’s blush and picked up his coffee concoction. “Better put a shirt on, Gimli. Legolas won’t be able to speak until you do.” 

If glares could kill, Boromir would be mourning the loss of his boyfriend right now. Instead, Aragorn just laughed into his drink. 

“Sorry about him, lad. He thinks he’s funny.”

Legolas tried to salvage a bit of his shattered dignity by turning up his nose at the drink Aragorn was trying to hand him. “He thinks he’s a lot of things.” 

Gimli accepted the drink Legolas had snubbed and gave an appreciative grunt when he tasted it. He wiped the whipped cream from his mustache, missing a spot. Legolas had never wanted to taste whipped cream so badly. He felt his eyes being drawn to Gimli’s lips even as he tried to be inconspicuous. Gimli ignored Legolas’s staring. “I’m sorry for imposing on you, Legolas. Aragorn assured me I wouldn’t be in anyone’s way.”

Legolas still couldn’t make eye contact with Gimli, but he could breathe normally again, so that was a start.

“It’s not an imposition, really. I’m sorry for… Well, I’m sorry.” Legolas looked up, barely catching Gimli’s eye before burying his face in his hands. “Anyways, what’s the son of a famed heart surgeon doing begging showers off of this long-shanked barista?”

Legolas could feel Aragorn shifting nervously from one foot to the other, and he could feel the color rising in his cheeks again. Had he said something wrong? He was always doing that, asking things that seemed like fine, normal questions to himself. But inevitably, someone would pull him aside later to let him know how rude he was being. 

“Well, laddie, that’s a difficult question.”

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to!” Legolas was starting to get a cramp in his side from hunching over the counter top for so long, but he wasn’t about to stand up and let everyone see how boiled-lobster his face was. 

“I don’t mind, really. My father is, how would one say, angry that I have not selected the same career path that he had chosen for me. We had a deal that I would be pre-med through undergraduate. He assumed that, after 4 years of grueling work, I’d be willing to put in six or eight more years of suffering to wind up with a lucrative job that would make me sad for the next 60 years. Instead, I decided to spend the rest of my one life studying poetry. Arabic romance poetry, to be exact.”

“Daddy cut you off, huh?” Legolas instantly regretted saying that, but Gimli laughed, his pectoral muscles dancing and his stomach shaking. Legolas wished he was wearing a hat so he could pull it over his eyes and die in a dignified manner. 

“I suppose you could say that.” Gimli grabbed Aragorn as he tried to awkwardly sidestep by Gimli, desperate to put at least one wall between him and his roommate before bursting into laughter. Aragorn twisted out of Gimli’s grip, but didn’t make a break for it. Legolas was tempted to try in his stead.

“Lego, I told Gimli he could stay here in the guest room for a few days while he figures something out. Is that okay?”

“Did you put it in the group chat?” 

Aragorn pulled out his flip phone, opening it up to show the group chat. “Yeah, you’re the only one who didn’t answer.”

Legolas pulled his phone from his back pocket and glumly swiped up, seeing the double digit text notification. “I’m fine with it if the girls are chill.” He lied. He offered a limp smile at the beaming redhead. How was he supposed to be fine with all of that sleeping one room over?

***

When Gimli and Aragorn returned from their shift at the Grey Havens cafe, they found Legolas in the same place where they had left him. He was slouching on the couch, his feet propped on an ottoman with some baking show playing on the tv. His laptop was open next to him with a random wikipedia page pulled up, but Legolas was focused solely on his Switch. 

Gimli nodded to the blonde, noting that now he was at least dressed, skinny jeans, a hoodie, and a gray beanie keeping him warm in the cold house. “Is he always like this on a Monday?”

Aragorn grimaced, but not unkindly. “He’s having a rough go of it right now.” Before he could elaborate, the front door slammed open, a loud laugh announcing the presence of Boromir.

“Where is my boyfriend? I haven’t kissed him for a whole day!” 

Without looking up, Legolas called to Gimli, “You can come hang out in the living room, Gimli. If you go upstairs, you’ll hear whatever they get up to, no matter how much you try not to.”

Boromir scoffed. “Just for that, twink, I’m revoking your ticket privileges for the first game this season!”

Legolas flipped around, leaning over the arm of the couch. “Oh no, what will I do? The football captain is mad at me!” He stuck his tongue out playfully, and Boromir returned the gesture and added a playful flip of the bird over the stairwell railing as Aragorn pulled him up the stairs, laughing. 

Gimli joined Legolas on the couch, sitting on the other end. “Are they always like that?”

Legolas rolled his eyes and then squinted, pulling his switch closer to his face as he walked Paper Mario off the platform. “Yeah, you get used to it though. At least Boromir is a good cook. It’s their penance for hogging the second floor when he’s over.”

Gimli laughed, then looked around, trying to find something else to talk about. His eye landed on a bookshelf that was seemingly organized by the color of the covers. Looking at it made him sad. “So, what are you studying?”

Legolas followed his glance over to the bookshelf. “Ugh. Don’t get me started. Arwen says that it helps the chi flow through the house easier or whatever. I graduated with my undergrad last June.”

“Oh, congrats. Are you applying to any graduate programs?” 

“Not currently. I don’t have a job either, in case you wanted to ask about that next.”

Gimli bit the inside of his cheek. Legolas didn’t seem particularly surly, just unaware of his tone’s implication. 

“What would you like me to ask you about, then?”

Legolas froze, the timer running out on his boss fight. He paused the game, then looked over at Gimli. “Um. I don’t know. No one has asked me that in a while.”Or ever, really.

Gimli chuckled. “Well, you can just tell me about something you’re finding interesting right now. Otherwise, you can ask me a question.” 

Legolas nodded. “Well. Hm. You work with Aragorn; are you sure you also want to spend your free time with him too?”

“The lad is annoying, sure, but he’s not so bad. He’s kind.”

“Hm.”

Gimli chuckled again, enjoying the tinge of pink that creeped into Legolas’s cheeks. “My turn to ask a question. When did you meet Aragorn, and how?”

Legolas had turned the boss fight back on and Gimli knew he had found a subject Legolas was comfortable talking about.

“We met four years ago when Aragorn was dabbling in 17th century religious poetry and I was just trying to keep my head above water. He’s changed majors what, five times since then? Six now?” 

“Aye, the bastard changes his major more often than he changes clothes these days.”

Legolas snorted, but did his best to keep from moving his mouth or showing any outward signs of emotion. Gimli decided to push a little further. “So what are you planning on doing next?”

Legolas ignored him, holding his Switch out at arms length. Gimli regretted pushing. “You don’t have to answer that, it’s your turn to ask a question anyways.”

Gimli felt a familiar pang in his chest, something sad but precious, sheltered away from those who wouldn’t understand as he watched the thin man lean his head back against the couch, resting an arm over his eyes to hide the fact that they were filling with tears. 

“Everyone always wants to know what I’m doing next. Sometimes I want to think that it’s enough to just be here right now. I don’t have to have goals, you know. I could just float for a while.”

Gimli looked him up and down, the grays and blacks of Legolas’s outfit seeming to sap the color from his pale skin. He wanted to say that this didn’t look like floating. 

“Ya know, lad, I learned the other day that most people wouldn’t recognize a drowning person when they saw them. Turns out that sometimes, drowning looks a lot like swimming.”

Legolas wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “Are you a lifeguard now too?”

Gimli chuckled. “No, I just scroll on tumblr sometimes.”

The pale man sniffed, and then gestured towards Gimli with his shoulder. “Then shut up and come over here and watch me kick this rubber band’s ass.”

Gimli scooted closer, their sleeves brushing against each other. Their first interaction had been Legolas seeing him in his birthday suit; the gentle brush of fabric shouldn’t feel like the most intimate experience he had had today, let alone in his entire life.

***

Boromir bounded down the stairs two at a time, expecting Legolas to scold him for being so jazzed on such a gray day. Boromir wouldn’t tell him, but he thought the kid just needed a good fucking. Always seemed to work for him and Aragorn. Instead, he was greeted by silence, except for the quiet narration for the baking show playing in the living room, the british ladies describing the intricate pastries the contestants were attempting.

He padded through the open concept kitchen and peeked around the half wall that separated the kitching from the living room. Legolas was sleeping, snuggled under Gimli’s arm, head resting right over Gimli’s heart. Gimli was still wearing his work shirt and visor, and when he caught sight of Boromir he sighed in relief. “Hush now, lad. Don’t laugh, you’ll wake him. Can you find me the bloody remote? I cannot watch another episode of this.”

Boromir grinned, leaning on the couch arm. He gestured for Aragorn to quietly join him. “Not a fan of the GBBO, Gimli?”

Gimli shushed Aragorn as he joined them and promptly burst into laughter. “I hate any competition cooking show, and so many things can go wrong with a pastry. It gives me too much stress. Now, give me the remote and get out of here. I have a feeling Legolas would be mortified if he knew you saw him like this.”

“Sorry, no can do. We gotta start dinner or I will literally chew off Boromir’s leg.” Aragorn shrugged, moving to the sink to wash his hands. Boromir joined him. “If he wakes up, we’ll pretend we didn’t see anything.”

“Wait, the remote!”

“Sorry pal, we can’t risk Legolas waking up and seeing us seeing him sleep.”

Gimli rolled his eyes. Based on the state of the couch, Legolas slept out here often, and he wouldn’t care if his roommates saw him sleeping. It went deeper than that. Legolas was sad in that indelible way, full of yearning and disappointment and isolation. He needed to be handled gently, but if he knew someone saw that fragility in him, he would fall to pieces anyways. If Gimli needed to be that gentle stranger, he didn’t mind. He did, however, mind that one of the contestants was crying just out of frame, about choux pastry of all things. 

After a few seconds of deliberation, Gimli slowly extracted himself from underneath Legolas, gently laying the thin man down where he had been sitting. 

“How can I help with dinner?”

“Don’t worry about it, Boromir has it handled.” Aragorn said from where he was sitting on the counter next to the stove, stirring a red sauce with a wooden spoon in one hand while examining the nails on the other.

Boromir shrugged from where he was slicing basil leaves. “Yeah. If you want to go change, dinner should be ready in like 20 minutes.”

Gimli cast one more glance to Legolas, and then nodded his thanks before going upstairs to change. 

***

Legolas slept through dinner and woke up around 9. There was a plate of leftover eggplant parmesan on the stove wrapped in foil for him. There was also a note saying that Aragorn was going to stay at Boromir’s tonight, something about starting a 24 hour stream. Legolas wondered if Gimli had gone with them while his plate turned in the microwave. The reheated breading on the eggplant was kind of soggy, but Legolas didn’t mind. It just meant he didn’t have to sit across from the hottest man he had seen in a long time and try to not choke on his pasta.

Legolas set the plate in the sink, but he at least rinsed the extra sauce from the dish. He knew he should put it in the dishwasher, but there wouldn’t be another person in the house for at least 24 hours; he had time. Legolas checked his phone, ignoring the text from his father. He didn’t have the energy to listen to his dad talk right now. At the top of the stairs, Legolas almost bolted back down them. The light in the guest room was leaking under the closed door, and he could hear what Eowyn would call Sadcore music lingering as floorboards creaked. Gimli must be hanging something up in the closet.

Legolas took a deep breath and then darted into his room, convinced that if Gimli caught sight of him, he would spontaneously combust. His door didn’t sit right on it’s hinges and it scraped loudly as he closed it - there was no way Gimli didn’t not hear it. Mercifully, there was no noise indicating that Gimli intended to try and engage him in conversation again. 

Legolas knew that sometimes, talking to him was like pulling teeth. It’s why conversations with his father were so painful. Legolas tried, he really did, but it was just too hard to say all the things he practiced saying. Legolas flopped face first on his bed, not bothering to change or even get under the covers. He did remember to plug in his phone, but then he just lay there, waiting for a sleep that he knew wouldn’t come until 3 or 4 in the morning. 

Around 10:30, he heard the guest door open, the music a little louder as Gimli walked past to get to the bathroom that Aragorn and Legolas shared. Legolas idly wondered if Gimli would use his or Aragorn’s sink to brush his teeth. Even the thought of Gimli getting water from Legolas’s faucet made him blush. It was weird, feeling this attraction. Legolas knew he still had emotions. He was happy when joking with Boromir and sitting in the same room with Aragorn as they both did their own thing. But the moment that they were out of sight, the empty feeling returned. And the empty feeling was still there, eating away at the void that was Legolas’s chest, but there was also heat there now. 

Legolas heard the toilet flush, then the sink running. At least Gimli washed his fucking hands. Legolas remembered having to make Boromir learn to wash his hands after peeing; a shiver passed down Legolas’s spine and he decided he should turn his ceiling fan off, even though he knew he wasn’t going to get up to do it.

Just as Legolas was about to settle into the nightly cycle of app refreshing, he heard a gentle knock at his door. He scrambled to pause his own music, hoping that the silence would convince Gimli that he was asleep. There was a pause, and then the knock returned. Groaning, Legolas stood up and cracked open the door, using it as a shield between his body and Gimli as he looked down to see what Gimli needed. 

“Sorry to bother you lad, do you happen to have an iron? Aragorn doesn’t have one and-” Gimli raised the rumpled button down shirt he was holding as an explanation.

“I’m not surprised he said that. Hang on, we have one in the towel closet.” Legolas slipped past Gimli, suddenly embarrassed to still be in his outside clothes. Gimli was wearing basketball shorts and a clean black vneck and Legolas could feel his heart racing at the sight of Gimli’s sculpted calves. 

He grabbed the iron and the miniature ironing board, going into the guest room to set it up on the desk in the room. It wasn’t actually a desk, it was a fold-out table that he and Aragorn had bought at a yardsale for like 7 dollars, but it worked. 

After setting up the board, he shrugged, nervous again. Gimli was standing in the doorway, so he couldn’t really leave. 

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” Legolas couldn’t make eye contact as he moved to slip past Gimli.

“You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to. I’m just ironing a few things before I watch some youtube in bed. You’re welcome to join me.”

Legolas knew he needed to leave right now immediately or he’d be in over his head. He opened his mouth to excuse himself and instead found himself agreeing to stay.

Gimli motioned to the bed, the only place to really sit in the room as Aragorn had taken the office chair with him for the stream. Idiot.

Legolas sat, folding his legs under him. He wished he had brought his phone so he at least had something to look at instead of watching Gimli iron shirts from behind.

“You don’t mind if I play my music, do you?” Gimli asked, swiping up on his phone screen with one hand while testing the iron’s heat with the other. 

“No, it’s fine.” Legolas blurted. How could he sound so inept while just saying “yes”? 

“Great, thanks.” Gimli focused on his ironing, and Legolas wondered how long he needed to sit before it would be okay for him to slip out of the room. After Gimli finished the first shirt, he deftly put it on a hanger and held it out towards Legolas. “Do you mind hanging this up while I work on the next one?”

Legolas took the shirt, the heat radiating off of it making him realize that his hands were freezing. Ignoring the sudden cold pain in his hands, he went to hang up the shirt in the closet. He had thought it was just a plain navy button up with dots, but upon closer inspection, the dots were actually tiny popsicles. If Gimli was his friend, he would’ve stolen this shirt. He quickly hung it up, not wanting to let Gimli know about his thoughts of grand larceny.

After two more shirts and one pair of slacks, Gimli unplugged the iron. He handed the pants to Legolas to put on the hanger, their hands brushing momentarily.

“Are your hands always that cold, Legolas?” Gimli asked, concern written on his broad face.

“Oh, no. They just sometimes get like this when my sleep schedule gets off.” Legolas tried to brush it off. Leave it to a surgeon’s son to be concerned about his circulation or whatever.

“I shouldn’t keep you up then.” Gimli stepped aside, opening a path to the door for Legolas. 

“No.” Legolas didn’t know why he was feeling so defensive, and why he was arguing to stay. “I, uh. If it’s okay, I’d rather stay for a bit.”

Gimli beamed at him, and Legolas felt his knees melting. Gimli motioned to the bed, and Legolas climbed up, sitting with his back against the headboard on the left side of the bed. Gimli sat next to him, plugging his phone into the wall as he opened the youtube app. After about 10 minutes, Gimli climbed under the covers. 

“It’s cold in this house,” he offered, lifting the covers a little in an invitation. At first, Legolas wanted to refuse, but at the offer, he remembered just how cold he actually was. He slid under the comforter, but made sure to sit on top of the sheet so he wouldn’t risk brushing up against Gimli’s leg. Even with his jeans between them, feeling Gimli’s thick, curly leg hair would absolutely drive Legolas wild.

If Gimli noticed, he didn’t say anything. After another 10 minutes, Gimli shuffled so he was laying down and gestured for Legolas to do the same. Legolas hesitated, and Gimli scoffed gently. “It’s okay, Legolas. I’m not going to do anything you don’t want. There’s nothing weird about laying in bed with a friend. And you can leave whenever you want.”

“I know that.” Legolas stretched out, keeping his legs as stiff as a board to keep from accidentally touching the shorter man. 

They watched a few more videos before Gimli yawned, and then closed the youtube app. “I have to open in the morning, so I’m gonna turn in. You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to.”

Before Legolas could answer, Gimli rolled onto his side, facing away from Legolas and the open door. He clicked off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. How was Legolas supposed to respond to that? Obviously, he should leave. But it was warm, and despite having such a long nap, Legolas was incredibly tired. His eyes were heavy, and even if he had wanted to get up, he couldn’t make his muscles listen.

Gimli smiled to himself when he heard Legolas quietly snoring not even three minutes after turning out the lights. 

***

When Gimli’s alarm went off at 5:30, he jolted awake and quickly turned it off so he wouldn’t disturb Legolas, but he needn’t have bothered. The other side of the bed was empty, but it had definitely been slept in. 

He would be extra quiet when he was getting ready this morning in case Legolas was sleeping behind his closed door. In the bathroom, there was still steam on the mirror - someone had showered recently. Gimli ran his fingers through his long hair and then put it up in a high bun before throwing on his work clothes and putting on his visor. Holding his shoes, Gimli tiptoed downstairs. He needn't have bothered; Legolas sitting at the kitchen table, eating cereal out of a cup and scrolling on his phone. 

“Oh. Hi.”

Legolas was a little startled, and Gimli noted he locked his phone out of habit. “Hey. Do you mind if I come hang out at the coffee shop for a while this morning? I figured I’d be a bit more productive today if I had to pay for a beverage every few hours.”

Gimli smiled. While the statement made no sense, the sentiment was clear. “Sure. I’m ready whenever you are.” 

Legolas stood, swinging a backpack to his shoulder. “Ready, I guess.”

Legolas locked the door behind them, hiding a smile from his companion. It was nice to tag along sometimes.

***

Legolas blew into his hands as Gimli fumbled with unlocking the front door of the coffee shop. He wished he had worn gloves. He probably didn’t even own gloves. 

Gimli fumbled with the keys. “Stop breathing so hard, lad. I’ll have to clean the glass if you smudge it.”

Petulantly, Legolas reached out a frozen finger and drew a quick caricature of an angry Gimli on the frost on the door, complete with extra bushy eyebrows. 

The shorter man grumbled, but Legolas could tell he was amused, so he added a caricature of himself with his tongue sticking out. 

‘Watch it laddie, you are pushing it!” Gimli added, finally swinging the door open. He slipped inside and pulled it closed before Legolas could get in. “Inside is for people with manners. Do you promise to behave?”

Legolas nodded balefully, rubbing his cold hands together. He wanted Gimli to call him a brat, among other things. The thought caught him off guard. Hm. That was new. 

Legolas didn’t meet Gimli’s eyes as he slipped through the door. He was slightly startled when Gimli locked the door behind them. “It’s to keep customers from coming in until we open.” Gimli shrugged.

“But the sign on the door says closed. You don’t open until 7.”

Gimli laughed. “You’ve never worked in customer service, have you?”

As if to prove his point, someone tried to open the door. Gimli just ignored the potential customer and started pulling chairs off of tables. Legolas looked around, unsure of what to do next. He set his backpack down in one of the leather armchairs and began helping set up the seating area. Gimli didn’t say anything, but hummed his thanks. After setting up the chairs, Gimli stocked the self-service bar, then rolled up the sleeves on his navy button up and tied on a black apron. Legolas watched him count out pastries for the display, and pull out several gallons of milk. Legolas crossed his legs uncomfortably as Gimli carried five gallons at once, the veins on his forearms standing out

“Do you need anything right now? I’m about to open the door, and there will be a line, so if you want something, you should get it now.” Gimli warned, motioning to the small line of people queuing outside, despite the cold. Legolas shook his head as he pulled out his laptop and set it on his lap. He’d wait til at least 8 before rewarding himself with a chai.

Legolas had every intention of writing, but his attention kept slipping to Gimli. The man made small talk look effortless, and the way he could assemble multiple beverages while managing the flow of orders made Legolas’s chest feel tight. 

At about 11:30, Gimli’s coworker came over to check on Legolas. She was a short woman with thick, tight curls pulled up in a poof. Her name tag said “Diamond” and she pulled no punches.

“Gimli sent me over to see if you needed anything. He thought that if he came over a fourth time, it might seem too desperate.”

“No, I’m good, thanks.” Legolas lied. His cup was empty and he wanted another beverage but he hadn’t planned this interaction, so he said no out of habit.

Diamond turned to leave, but hesitated. “Hey, he really likes you, you know. You’re literally all he has talked about today.”

Legolas shifted in his seat, uncomfortable. He didn’t meet Diamond’s eyes as she continued. “Don’t lead him on if you aren’t feeling it, okay? Gimli’s a really good guy, and he deserves better than that.”

Legolas mumbled something in agreement or embarrassment, he couldn’t tell, but Diamond seemed satisfied. Legolas shoved his laptop into his backpack and didn’t bother to zip it. He threw his cup in the trash and was about to slip out the door when a strong hand grabbed his wrist.    
“You’re leaving?” Legolas didn’t have to turn to know it was Gimli.

“Uh, yeah. I was gonna go home for lunch.”

“You can stay if you want. I can take lunch soon and you can split one of our new spinach mozzarella sandwiches with me.”

After that confrontation, a million dollars couldn’t get Legolas to stay. He mumbled some excuse. 

Gimli looked disappointed, but nodded. “Oh, well, in that case. Will you be home this afternoon? I get off at three but Aragorn forgot to give me a house key before leaving. If you won’t be, that’s fine. I can hang out at the school library until Aragorn gets home.”

Legolas didn’t want to be alone in the house with Gimli, that sounded dangerous. But he also didn’t want to inconvenience Gimli, so he nodded. “I’ll be there.” And then he bolted out the door.

Gimli turned to look at Diamond over the counter. “What was that about?” He mouthed.

Diamond just shrugged and went back to steaming milk.

***

When Legolas got home, he didn’t really feel like eating, even though it was officially lunch time. Instead, he paged through a few different books, getting bored after a few paragraphs. He tried to pick his knitting back up but that didn’t hold his interest either. He opened his phone and played app roulette. That’s what he was doing when Gimli knocked on the front door. When he opened it, Gimli was looking a little winded from his walk, his cheeks red and chapped from the cold afternoon wind. 

“Legolas, Diamond told me what she said. I’m sorry if she made you feel-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence because Legolas had planted his hands on Gimli’s shoulders and then kissed him square on the lips. It was stiff and awkward, and caught both of them off guard. Legolas jumped back, both hands covering his mouth. Gimli thought that, if the boy’s eyes got any wider, they’d fall out of his head. Trying to keep his thoughts and feelings to himself, Gimli stepped inside the house and closed the door but didn’t move any closer to Legolas. He didn’t want to scare him away.

“I’m sorry.” Legolas’s voice was barely a whisper. Gimli could tell he wanted to run.

“It’s okay, lad. Normally I like to be asked before I’m kissed, but we’re both all right. Do you want to talk about this?”

Legolas was full on crying and he did not want to talk about this. When he didn’t respond, Gimli took one step forward and looked up at the blond man. “I think we should talk. Would you be okay if I asked you yes or no questions? You could nod or shake your head, or just not answer some questions if they make you too uncomfortable.”

Legolas was miserable and he definitely did not want to do this. He nodded his head anyways.

Gimli threw the deadbolt on the door and then gently guided Legolas to the couch, sitting himself on the ottoman so they were face to face, but he didn’t force the eye contact. Instead, he took Legolas’s hands gently in his own, pausing to let Legolas pull away if he wanted to. The tall man didn’t move; he just let his thin fingers rest in Gimli’s broad palms.

“Okay. Let’s start with an easy one. Do you like me?”

Legolas hesitated, but then nodded his head. 

“Are you seeing someone else exclusively right now?”

Legolas quickly shook his head. 

“This one might be harder. Would you like to kiss me again?”

Legolas hesitated and Gimli could tell he was disengaging from the conversation. 

“That’s okay. I can say that I would like to kiss you again, and I would do it right now if you wanted to, too.”

Legolas blushed, and the tears started flowing again.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to. Is there something that’s making you ashamed for kissing me?”

Legolas started sobbing, and slowly leaned forward into Gimli’s arms. Gimli just held him for a few minutes, stroking his hair. When the sobs were replaced by jerky hiccups, Gimli stopped petting Legolas’s hair and tried another question. 

“Is there anything that’s keeping you from kissing me that you’d like me to know about?”

Legolas nodded onto Gimli’s broad shoulder but didn’t say anything. 

“Maybe it would be easier if I sat next to you?” 

When the thin man nodded, Gimli moved from the ottoman to the couch. Legolas leaned over, resting his head on Gimli’s shoulder. His thick beard was scratchy against Legolas’s sensitive cheek, but it made talking easier. Gimli laced his fingers through Legolas’s, stoking small circles on Legolas’s thumb. 

“My dad doesn’t know. He would be so ashamed and I can’t.” Legolas trailed off, his hoarse voice just as scratchy as the shorter man’s beard. 

Gimli hummed, understanding exactly where Legolas was coming from. “We don’t have to tell him anything ever. You don’t owe him anything, you know.“

Legolas choked up. “You don’t get it. I’ve tried before, with other men. I just can’t. I’m broken like that.”

“You aren’t broken, lad. You’re unlearning a lot of internalized shit and that’s hard. Do you like men?”

When Legolas nodded, Gimli continued. “Do you want to do sexual things with men?” Legolas folded in on himself a bit but nodded. “Then it’s okay. It’s no sin to do things that make you happy. Sometimes we eat tasty food because we want it, not because we need that dish to live. It’s the same principle with sex. If you want it, and any others involved also want it, then it’s good. So, do you want to kiss me?”

Legolas stayed slumped but after a minute, nodded slowly. 

“I’d like you to say it out loud, if you can. Do you want to kiss me again?”

“Yes, I’d like to ki- I’d like that.” The voice was small and scared, but determined. Gimli reached out his right hand and placed it gently on Legolas’s cheek, turning his face towards Gimli. Their foreheads touched gently as Legolas continued to look down. They sat like that for a moment, and then Gimli tilted his chin up so their lips touched gently. It was a gentle brush of skin on skin, but it burned. A tear ran down Legolas’s face, and Gimli brushed it away with his thumb, keeping his hand on Legolas’s angular jaw. Again, Gimli leaned in, trying to stay gentle despite the passion coursing through his veins. This time Legolas leaned in as well, making the kiss last longer. Gimli turned his head a bit and slid his right hand back and down so he was supporting Legolas’s slender neck. Legolas squeezed Gimli’s right hand, holding on like it was the only lifeline tying him to this life. Their teeth scraped against each other as their kisses grew mouthier and more desperate. 

Losing himself to the sensation, Legolas leaned into the kissing, trying to get closer. With his free hand, he grabbed onto Gimli’s shirt, the damn popsicles seeming to mock him somehow. The awkward angle set off a sharp cramp in his side, so Legolas swung his left leg over Gimli, now straddling Gimli’s thick thighs. He steadied himself by turning the hand holding the shirt into a fist and flipping his right hand before interlocking fingers with Gimli again. Legolas wanted to be self-conscious about the gross kissing sounds he was making but it felt so good, he didn’t care. He could feel his own erection growing and he needed some sort of friction. He ground his hips down, surprised at how good it felt to rub up against Gimli’s groin. 

Gimli wanted to keep going but he knew they needed to go slow and talk through boundaries or Legolas would regret things later and Gimli did not want Legolas to regret kissing him. He planted a soft kiss on the corner of Legolas’s thin mouth, then pulled his chin back, leaning away from Legolas’s desperate mouth. He used their interlocked hands to press against Legolas’s chest while using the hand on the back of his neck to keep the scared man from running away. 

“I am really enjoying this, Legolas, but we need to communicate where this is going and set some boundaries.”

Legolas felt his chest heaving, partly from desire but mostly from the panic that was building. “Can’t we just keep doing this?”

“Oh definitely.” Gimli pressed another kiss to the corner of Legolas’s mouth. “But we could also do other things if you like. Things like this.” He pulled Legolas’s hand to his mouth and slowly kissed the sharp knuckles one at a time. Legolas gasped needily, unprepared for the jolt of electricity that sparked in his belly. 

Smiling, Gimli ran his other hand slowly down Legolas’s back to the hem of his shirt, touching his skin at the hip. “Or this. May I?” Legolas nodded and Gimli slowly, sensuously ran his hand up and down Legolas’s back. 

The moan that escaped Legolas’s mouth went largely unremarked upon. 

“There are lots of good things we could do, we just need to make sure it’s good for both of us. I’ll start. I want to keep our pants on but I’m okay with petting and touching.” 

Legolas nodded. “I’d like that. Can we stay like this for now?” He licked his lips nervously before adding, “And can I keep rubbing on you?”

Gimli thought for a moment. “Yes, that would be okay. I’ll let you lead, and if I become uncomfortable, I’ll say so.”

Gimli let go of Legolas’s hand and pulled his other hand out from Legolas’s shirt so he could grab Legolas’s face and pull him close for more kissing. The thin man was all teeth and tongue. It reminded Gimli of a starving animal finally finding food in a safe place, and he felt that pain in his heart again as he cradled Legolas’s face. 

Legolas was moving his hips erratically, trying to find a motion that provided relief to his aching dick, fisting his hands into Gimli’s shirt, running his fingers through Gimli’s beard. He had never done anything like this before, and it terrified and thrilled him.

Gimli’s beard snagged between his thin fingers and Gimli laughed into Legolas’s mouth. 

“Slow down, lad, you’ll give me a bald spot.” 

Legolas let Gimli hold his forearm while detangling beard from hand. He idly wondered if other people knew how good it felt to have someone laugh into your mouth. From what little smut he had read, you didn’t laugh when you did things like this. You cried, you begged, you were quietly overwhelmed. But God, it felt good to hear Gimli laugh. He wanted to laugh while kissing a man one day, to see what the other side of it tasted like. 

Gimli finally freed himself and turned back to Legolas. His blue eyes looked miles away, so Gimli placed a large hand on his shoulder. “Do we need to stop?”

“No!” Legolas looked down at him in alarm. If he didn’t want to stop, Gimli wouldn’t. “Do you mind if I take my shirt off?” Legolas shook his head, but Gimli could see the fear brewing on the pointed face. “I can leave it on if you would prefer.”

Legolas shook his head again. “Can I... Can I help?”

Gimli gestured at the top buttoned button and Legolas quickly began fumbling with the white plastic buttons. It took him a few tries to get the first one undone, but after that it was smooth sailing. Gimli shrugged out of the sleeves while Legolas drank in Gimli’s chest, overwhelmed by the thick red curls, the weaving tattoos, the curves and planes of muscle and fat. 

“May I?” Legolas mumbled, gesturing at Gimli. 

“Knock yourself out, lad.” 

As soon as he had permission, Legolas sunk his hands into Gimli’s chest hair, petting and stroking him gently. He traced the interweaving inked lines that criss-crossed across Gimli’s arm and his chest on the right side. Gimli continued to kiss Legolas and rubbed the small of his back with both hands. After a few minutes, Legolas rested his head on Gimli’s shoulder and Gimli kissed him on the top of his ear, and then whispered “Do you want to cum?”

He half expected Legolas to bolt away, but Legolas just stopped swaying, his back stiffening under Gimli’s hands. 

“You can say no, Legolas. I just want to know how far you want to go.”

Legolas’s voice was thin and wavering. “I thought you wanted to keep pants on.” 

Gimli laughed. “I have a few tricks up my sleeve, lad. We can keep our pants on for this one.”

Legolas buried his face into Gimli’s neck, stray hairs tickling his nose. “You aren’t even wearing any sleeves.”

The levity surprised Gimli, and Legolas smiled as he continued mouthing at Gimli’s neck between words. “Yeah, I think we could try.”

Gimli helped Legolas shift his hips and moved them both so Legolas was laying on the couch and Gimli was straddling one of his legs. “You can say to stop at any point, Legolas. We’ll go back to doing what we were doing before and we don’t have to talk about it any more than that. And if you look uncomfortable, I’ll stop and we can decide what to do next.” 

Legolas nodded, wrapping his arms awkwardly around Gimli’s neck. Gimli leaned forward, bracing himself on one arm as he used the other hand to cradle Legolas’s face, then slowly floated his hand down, brushing gently down Legolas’s torso. Legolas shuddered beneath Gimli’s touch and moaned into his mouth. 

Gently, Gimli brushed across Legolas’s crotch and was rewarded with another shiver. Gimli moved slowly, adding more pressure with each pass until he was palming Legolas’s balls and dick. He could feel the stretch in Legolas’s pants. Soon, Legolas was twisting and writhing under his touch, groaning and whispering directions to Gimli. Gimli couldn’t keep his hips still, either. He began to rub against Legolas’s thigh, letting himself get lost in the rhythm. 

Legolas didn’t want it to stop. Yes, Gimli had stopped kissing him when the shorter man had begun to grind against his leg, but it felt good to be pet and stroked. He let go of Gimli’s neck and began petting Gimli’s chest, feeling the heat in his own belly swell and dip. Then Gimli twisted his wrist as his hand ground gently down Legolas’s dick and Legolas squeaked, his hips jumping involuntarily. He fucking squeaked. His face flushed with embarrassment, but Gimli smiled down on him and did it again a second and then a third time and that was all it took. Legolas could feel the heat that had been building at the base of his dick suddenly explode, ricocheting through his hips, down into his knees and up into his lungs. He felt warm and safe as he realized that he had been growing more and more tense, and was suddenly slumping back, all his muscles twitching and slack. 

Gimli gave him a few more strokes, easing off the pressure gradually. He had stopped rubbing against Legolas’s thigh at some point. Careful not to touch his hand to Legolas’s hoodie, Gimli leaned forward so his body was covering Legolas’s torso and began kissing him slowly, sometimes on the mouth, sometimes on the jaw or the chin. Legolas could feel the tears building in his eyes, but he wasn’t sad. Or he was, but it didn’t feel heavy. This sadness was light, bobbing around in the void of Legolas’s chest, making him feel less empty.

After a few moments, they just lay there, and then Gimli sat up, pulling Legolas up to rest on his elbows. “You should get a shower, lad. Do you want me to wash your clothes while you clean up?”

Legolas would have blushed, but he was already flushed from all the exertion and emotions boiling through his body. “I can handle it, I think. Was it... Are you good?” 

Gimli laughed. “I’m doing great, lad. You made me feel good, and I hope I made you feel good too.” 

Legolas couldn’t look him in the eye. He had felt good. And now he felt empty again. He hadn’t expected sex to cure him, but he thought he’d at least feel something, even if it was just shame or disgust. “It felt good.” Legolas mumbled, hoping that Gimli would accept that answer and wouldn’t make him answer any more questions.

“I’m glad. You go shower. I’m going to make us some tea. It’ll be ready when you come back down.”

When you come back down. Legolas wanted to hide under his bed until Gimli left. He didn’t like feeling like this. He had liked kissing Gimli, touching Gimli, being touched by Gimli. But now, the void inside was larger than before. Taking the proffered way out, Legolas bolted upstairs and slammed the bathroom door. He turned on the hot water, stripped his pants and then sat on the closed toilet lid. He pulled his knees up to his chin and sat like that while steam filled the small room. 

***

Gimli filled Aragorn’s electric kettle with water and turned it on, humming along as it kicked to life when he flicked the switch. He heard the shower upstairs turn on, and, satisfied, he went back to poking through the cabinets for tea supplies. He was pleasantly surprised at the array of mismatched mugs that this mismatched family had compiled. He pulled out two mugs, one with cat whiskers and the other with the word “Tea” printed on it in a serif font, and added two bags of Twinnings chai. When the kettle clicked a few minutes later, he poured the water over the tea bags and set a timer on his phone for five minutes. 

To kill time, Gimli turned on the TV and flipped through a few genres on the streaming service, looking for something they could watch together when Legolas came back down. They’d have to talk more at some point, but tonight Gimli just wanted to relax. When his timer went off, Gimli added sugar and milk to the mugs after removing the tea bags. It had been 10 minutes and the shower was still running, but maybe Legolas just took long showers. 

After 15 minutes, Gimli began to grow a little concerned. Aragorn had insinuated that Legolas was struggling right now. Gimli’s mind went blank with panic. He took the stairs two at a time, turning the corner sharply to knock on the bathroom door. “Legolas, are you okay, lad?”

There was no response, and that did nothing to help ease his concern. “Legolas, are you in there?” there was still no response. Gimli could feel his knees growing weak with worry. “Legolas, answer me. Please.” 

He waited a moment more, but when no answer came forth, he gently turned the handle and pushed the door in, steeling himself for whatever awaited him. Steam flooded out the open door and Gimli was momentarily grateful that he was wearing contacts instead of his glasses. Legolas was sitting on the closed toilet lid, staring into space, seeming not to have heard Gimli.

“You scared me, lad.”

Legolas didn’t respond. He just sat there, staring slightly down and to the left of where Gimli was standing.

“Hey, are you okay? Do you need help?”

At that moment, it was like a switch was flipped. Legolas jumped up, putting a hand on the open door as if to push it closed. “I don’t need your help. I was fine before you showed up. I was managing things. I was coping.” Legolas went to slam the door, but Gimli pushed his foot in the way. 

“That’s not fair. We can talk about this-”

“I’m tired of talking. With you, with Aragorn, with therapists, with my dad. I’m tired. I don’t have… There’s nothing inside me, Gimli.” As if to prove his point, Legolas crumpled to the floor, his legs folding underneath him. 

Gimli knew he had two choices. He could walk away, let his anger and hurt pride drive him. He would be justified in doing so. Gimli couldn’t do that. It wasn’t pity exactly that made him stay. It was something deeper, something bitter and painful that curled around his chest, settling between his ribs and clawing its way out of Gimli’s memories. It was haunting, at once foreign and yet so familiar. 

Gimli knelt down in front of Legolas, unsure of what he should say or do next. He knew what he wanted to do, to hug Legolas, to squeeze him so tightly that his joints groaned and popped, to cover Legolas fully, pressing him in on himself so that Legolas had to acknowledge himself. 

It’s what Gimli wished someone had done on every occasion when he had come out to his own father, or every time that his father refused to acknowledge that he was queer. Just the physical knowledge that someone saw you, recognized you, and accepted you. But touching Legolas was what had driven him to this point, and Gimli was beginning to wonder if maybe he had pushed Legolas too far. Maybe he had misunderstood what they were doing, projected his own issues and desires onto someone else.

“What do you want me to say to you, Legolas?”

At his question, several answers ran through Legolas’s mind. He wanted to be told that he would be okay. That he wasn’t some consuming void. That things would get better. That Gimli would fix him, heal him, carry him away. That Gimli wouldn’t get tired of the gray days and leave when Legolas became too much to manage. Because Legolas would always become too much for people. Too sad. Too whiny. Too needy. Too Legolas. But he couldn’t say any of this to Gimli. 

Instead, he just wiped his eyes, even though they were dry. “I’m sorry.”

Surprised by the apology, Gimli rocked back on his heels so far he fell on his butt, but after a moment, he realized that this is exactly the response he should’ve expected. Of course Legolas, who couldn’t even say that he wanted to kiss Gimli an hour ago, would struggle to articulate his needs or feelings on request. “There’s no need to be sorry, lad. Sometimes after sex or sexual activities, people have extreme reactions. Some people feel an overwhelming rush of emotions. Some people experience a deep bout of depression. What you are experiencing right now, it’s normal. Well, normal isn’t the right word. It’s average? It’s not unexpected?” Gimli was floundering, looking for the right words, anything to make the situation not worse. Legolas appreciated the effort. 

“I’m going to get in the shower now.” Legolas had been looking at the ground to avoid eye contact, but that became more difficult now that Gimli was sprawled on the floor. 

Gimli leaned back on one elbow, as if he wanted to be laying on the floor. “You will come down when you’re done? We don’t have to talk or anything, we can just watch cartoons or whatever.” 

Legolas gave a small uncertain nod, and then closed the door. Gimli waited on the floor until he heard the plastic crinkle of the shower curtain opening and closing, and then hefted himself from the floor, going downstairs to reheat the tea. He opened the fridge to look for something for dinner, but it was fairly empty. He scrounged for a bit, but gave up and set about making a few grilled cheeses. 

When Legolas came downstairs a few minutes later, he was wearing sweats and a long sleeve shirt that had a hood. He didn’t need it, though, because his hair was wrapped in a towel on top of his head and he was touching up a gel face mask. He dumped his clothes unceremoniously in the washer, and then removed the towel from his head, doing a last minute dry-job on his long platinum hair. 

Gimli was so entranced with Legolas’s long blond locks that he burned the bottom of the third sandwich. Legolas could have that one, Gimli decided. He set it on top of the stack, turning the stove off and then cut down the tower of sandwiches diagonally. 

“Whatcha making?” Legolas asked as he dumped an unmeasured amount of laundry detergent into the washer and then clicked a few buttons that set the machine in motion.

“Grilled cheese. You want some?” Gimli asked as he held out a reheated mug of tea to Legolas, who took it gratefully. 

Legolas looked over the grilled cheese distrustfully. He let out a sigh of relief. “Yes, you cut it correctly into triangles.” 

Gimli was dumbfounded as they settled back down on the couch, some sort of team robot kids show playing in the background. “What other shape is there?” 

“Rectangles.” Legolas said, biting into a sandwich half, wrinkling his nose at the slight char on the bottom, hidden piece of bread.

“What?”

Legolas gestured over the stack of sandwiches, miming the slices. “You cut them on the diagonal. Aragorn insists on cutting them down the middle like so.” 

“What the fuck.”

Just then the front door burst open and Boromir carried Aragorn over the threshold, bridal style. “We’re back kids!”

Gimli jumped up from the couch. “You monster! You fiend! You cut your grilled cheese sandwiches down the middle?” 

“Not just grilled cheese, my ruddy friend. Ham and cheese and chicken salad sandwiches are also subject to a rectangle slice now and again.” Aragorn said cheerfully, nodding for Boromir to carry him over to the couch so he could pat Gimli on the bearded cheek in time with the last few words.

“That’s disturbing, lad.”

Aragorn laughed and Boromir dropped him gracefully to his feet. “So what have you two been up to all day? Just sitting here eating sammies and watching cartoons?”

Legolas flushed, his shoulders rolling forward in embarrassment. Gimli stepped in. “Well, Legolas went with me for the first half of my shift this morning and was working on something. What were you doing, laddie?” 

“Writing.” Legolas squeaked, still hunched over. 

Gimli continued. “After I got home, we chatted, Legolas did laundry, and I made dinner. And what about you boys? Did your stream go well?” 

Aragorn waggled his eyebrows at Boromir suggestively and Boromir rolled his eyes. “Some princess got tired of losing and tried to distract the winner with some physical affection off camera, but accidentally pulled the plug with his big stupid feet and killed the stream at about 2:30 today.”

Legolas felt his mouth grow dry, fear bubbling up from his stomach and making his mouth taste ashy and dry. Gimli deflected for him once more. “And you didn’t get back on the stream? Lords, lads, what have you been doing since then?”

Aragorn and Boromir both protested at the same time. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know!” 

“I do not kiss and tell, Gimli!”

They laughed, and Aragorn kissed Boromir on the cheek. “We’re going to try the stream again next week. I just came home to get a clean set of clothes - will you be good making your own way to work tomorrow, Gimli?” 

Gimli agreed and Aragorn moved to go upstairs. He ran his hand across Boromir’s shoulders and then trailed his fingers down Boromir’s right arm until they held hands briefly. Boromir laughed, hitting Aragorn’s hand away. Their PDAs were always disgusting. Legolas stood quickly and followed Aragorn upstairs, stomping the whole way. Gimli exchanged a glance with Boromir. They both grimaced and Boromir whistled under his breath. 

“Sorry for leaving you here with him alone, Gimli. I can ask Aragorn to stay if-”

“No, but thank you kindly. It might do Legolas some good.”

Boromir shrugged, then gestured towards the plate of rapidly cooling grilled cheese. Gimli offered him the plate and Boromir bit into the middle of the triangle. “Ugh. Triangle cut sandwiches are obviously superior. Don’t tell my boyfriend I said that.”

****

Legolas stomped into Aragorn’s room but halted in the threshold, leaning on the door frame as he watched Aragorn sniff a pair of socks from the floor before shoving them in a backpack. 

Aragorn didn’t acknowledge his presence with a glance, but muttered, “If you are here to complain that I’m leaving you alone too often, I’d like to state that you aren’t alone - Gimli is here.”

Legolas folded his arms. He wanted to stamp his foot like a spoiled kid from the movies, but decided that was a bit too dramatic. “You know I don’t get on well with strangers. Or most people in general.”

Aragorn grinned over at him, shoving an inside-out t-shirt into the backpack. “Gimli’s not a stranger. In fact, it looked like you two were getting on like a house on fire.” 

Aragorn looked like he was about to continue teasing Legolas, but then noticed the tears pooling in the pale blue eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong? If you really don’t want me to go, I’ll stay.” Legolas looked over his shoulder and turned as if to leave, but then thought better of it and stepped into the room closing the door.

“Is it that bad?” Aragorn asked, throwing the comforter over his unmade bed and patting the mattress for Legolas to join him sitting on it. “If Gimli is making you uncomfortable or anything, we can ask him to leave.”

Legolas joined him, sitting cross legged on the bed. “No, I just- It’s bad, Aragorn.” Legolas’s voice got quieter with each word until he was just whispering. The tears were running down his face but he didn’t move to wipe them away. 

“What’s so bad about it? Like, does he smell?”   
“Like an angel. A lumberjack. A lumberjack angel.” 

Aragorn barked a surprised laugh. “Well, spit it out, man.”

Legolas shifted uncomfortably. “You remember when we tried to… well, you know.”

Aragorn raised an eyebrow. “You mean when we tried to go on a date but when I pulled out a chair for you at Olive Garden, you bolted to the bathroom and then climbed out the window? Or when we tried to kiss at midnight when we were drunk on New Year’s Eve, but you panicked and ralphed all over Arwen’s favorite rug? Or when you told me you might be gay but it took you 2 hours because you kept assuring me that you weren’t trying to get into my pants, which was after we had gone on a failed date and had a fail kiss?”

Legolas was glancing down at his hands, but he realized that Aragorn’s blunt recalling of his many gay failings had calmed him. That’s why he still lived with Aragorn - he had embarrassed himself in every conceivable way in front of the man and still Aragorn was there for him. “Yeah. Well, Gimli and I tried… stuff.”

Aragorn leaned forward, excited. “Really? Like, what stuff? Did he buy you a drink at work? Did you hold hands while walking?” 

Legolas felt the blush creeping up his neck and down his cheeks.

Aragorn slapped him on the knee, flabbergasted. “You slut! You touched his knee while watching cartoons!”

“I thought you didn’t kiss and tell.” Legolas protested. He realized that he actually felt proud. It was a strange sensation.

Aragorn’s mouth would’ve been on the floor if he wasn’t sitting already. “You kissed him? You did! Hey, I’m proud of you, pal.” Aragorn wrapped him in a hug. He was one of the few people that Legolas allowed to touch him, and Aragorn tried to be respectful of that privilege. 

At the unexpected touch, Legolas felt a bit of shame trying to worm it’s way into his feelings of pride, but he swallowed it down. “We did more than kiss. If you leave me here with him, Aragorn, I don’t know what else we’ll do. It- it scares me.”

Aragorn held him out at arms length, examining his face critically. “Hey, of course it does. You’ve dealt with a lot, and you have a lot of complicated feelings and shit to work through. But you’re making progress. And you could do worse than Gimli.”

Legolas sighed dramatically, lustily, even. “Shut up. He’s the hottest man I’ve ever seen. If he wasn’t so short, I’d climb him like a tree.”

Aragorn burst into laughter. “Dude, don’t waste that talk on the likes of me. For real though, if you want me to stay, I will. And if you want me to not be here, there are condoms in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom.” 

“Ew.” Legolas said, shoving Aragorn away. “I’m not using your weird condoms. I have my own.”

“You do? They haven’t expired, right?”

Legolas rolled his eyes. “Eowyn gave them to me before the girls left last week. Apparently Arwen bought her some that were cuter or something?”

Aragorn shoulder-checked his friend. “Oh, so you’ll take condoms from Eowyn but not me? Is that what you’re saying?” 

“Yeah, call it blond solidarity.” 

Aragorn laughed, and after a quiet moment, he slapped his hands on his hips and stood up. “Listen, if you need to talk, you can call me at any time. I mean it. I won’t be sleeping much tonight anyways.” He winked salaciously.

“Liar. You pulled an all nighter all ready. Ten bucks you are asleep in Boromir’s car before you get back to his place.”

Aragorn pulled out his wallet and counted out ten one dollar bills and slapped them down onto his beat up dresser. “I’m being serious here. Call me if you need to talk. And you can stop at any point.”

“That’s what Gimli says any time we do anything. Fuck’s sake, I think he said that when he handed me a grilled cheese earlier.”

Aragorn turned away so Legolas didn’t see him smiling. Usually, even the thought of being intimate in any way with another person sent Legolas into a spiral. Whatever his father had done to him growing up had really fucked with Legolas, and Aragorn was glad to see that Legolas was finally taking steps towards finding his own happiness. 

The door slammed open, Boromir’s broad shoulders filling up the frame. “Hey, you about ready?”

Legolas quickly wiped his eyes and Boromir glanced between the two of them, concern growing on his face. “Lego, do I need to beat anyone’s ass? I’ll go downstairs and do it.”

Legolas smiled as he stood and walked over to Boromir. He stood on tiptoes to brush a quick kiss to Boromir’s stubbly cheek before ducking under his arm to leave. “I’m good, thanks.”

Boromir’s look of surprise sent Aragorn into a giggling fit. “He. He kissed me, Aragorn.” 

Aragorn reached out for a fist bump. Legolas was definitely making progress.

***

After Boromir and Aragorn left, the house was finally quiet again. Legolas put his clothes in the drier, having to move a load the girls had left behind to their room first. Afterwards, he took a few deep breaths in the laundry room before going to stand in front of Gimli, who was lounging while eating the last sandwich half.

“You’re blocking the TV, lad.”

When he didn’t move, Gimli sat up and paused the show. “What’s up?”

Legolas was fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “I want to say something, but you can’t interrupt me or look at my face, ok?”

Gimli nodded, and then looked straight ahead at Legolas’s chest. He focused on the strings that went through the hood on Legolas’s shirt, the right one to be precise. 

Legolas took another shaky breath before laying it all out in a rush. “I really like you and I not just like, like. Usually, when I get a crush on a guy, it’s someone I’ve never talked to and once I do talk to them, it goes away. It hurts. But you’re different. I’ve talked to you several times and the hurt was different. It wasn’t sharp like the others, it was like... Like when you remember something that should be happy, but instead you’re just a little homesick and sad. 

“And then we kissed and I didn’t throw up, and you seem to know just how to hold me and talk to me so I feel safe and not smothered. I liked that. I know I was really upset after we did… that thing that we did, but I think that maybe I’ll get better with practice? Or I’ll be prepared for it at least. 

“I want to keep trying things with you. I want to go on dates, and hold your hand. I want to do… I want to do more sex things with you, too. I know I’m rambling. I’m sorry. I just wanted you to know that I wanted that.”

Gimli had reached out and grabbed the soft fabric of Legolas’s shirt and pulled him closer. “Aye, I’d like that as well.”

Legolas stood there, awkwardly for a moment. “Well, what do we do now?”

Gimli laughed. Yesterday, he had woken up homeless, and now he had whatever this thing with Legolas was. It all came out even in the wash after all. “Whatever you want, lad.”

Legolas’s eyes were wide. “Well, I have to think for a minute. Hang on.”

He grabbed the paper sandwich plate and threw it in the trash, and then vigorously washed the frying pan and spatula. 

After he finished cleaning up the kitchen, Legolas returned to standing in front of Gimli. “I appreciate that you respect my boundaries, but I want to respect yours as well. You said you wanted to keep your pants on earlier, and I want to respect that. But I might one day want to do things without pants, so we should talk about that.”

Gimli laughed. “All right, let’s talk then. But I also want to talk about stuff other than sex. I don’t mind a little casual sex here or there, but if we want this to be more than a fling, we should make sure we actually like each other.”

“Agreed.” Legolas sat down on the couch next to Gimli. “So, should we ask each other questions, or just talk about ourselves? How does this normally go?”

“This isn’t exactly normal. For starters, I’m pretty sure this is our third date in one day.”

Legolas looked slightly distressed about going off the normal script. “No, I want to do this right.” 

“There’s no right way, lad. There’s just what works for us and what doesn’t. You don’t have to worry about messing things up. But if it helps to have a structure, we can ask each other questions. Two regular questions per sex question. I’ll start. When did you first get a crush on me? Was it seeing me naked in the shower?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Legolas didn’t notice Gimli’s teasing and tilted his head, giving it more thought than Gimli expected. “The house party that Eomer threw.” 

“For the fourth of July? Last year?”

“Yeah, but it’s my turn to ask a question.”

“Hold on, why didn’t you say anything then?” 

“It’s my turn. But also, I had a panic attack after I kissed you today, and that was after months of therapy.”

Gimli nodded in acknowledgement and Legolas continued. “When did you move to America?”

“When I was 15. Was it the accent that gave it away?” 

“Yes, unless you went to an exclusively Scottish preschool.”

“Hm. How do you feel about tattoos?”

Legolas lifted his shirt to show Gimli the quote on the left side of his rib cage. “I have a few other small ones, but you’ll have to find them yourself I guess. How long have you known you were gay?”

“Since I was a teen, but I’m actually queer. You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”

Legolas looked embarrassed. “Yeah, no, that’s great. Sorry.”

Gimli took Legolas’s hand and reassured him it was fine. “Tell me about your family, if you’re okay with that.”

Legolas took a deep breath. “Fine, but then I’m asking a sex question. It’s just me and my dad. He’s… he would not be supportive if he knew I was gay. I tried to tell him once, in high school. We were eating dinner, and when I brought up the fact that I’d never had a girlfriend, and there was a reason why, he literally stood up, said ‘We will never speak about this again.’ and then walked out. I didn’t see him again for three days because he got called away on business.”

Gimli rubbed his thumb on Legolas’s palm. Legolas took another deep breath, then asked his question. “When can we talk about doing stuff without pants?”

Gimli stroked his beard with his free hand in mock contemplation. “Well, I think the standard rule is that you can sleep together on the third date…”

Legolas’s gaze fell as he sighed, but then he remembered what Gimli had said early. Still teasing, Gimli held up fingers as he listed their dates. “A long walk followed by coffee at the best coffee establishment in town, a little tomfoolery followed by dinner and cartoons, and now a serious talk where we get to know each other better. That’s three by my count.”

They sat in silence for a moment, and then Legolas tentatively asked, “So, how do we do this?”

“Well, usually, one talks with their sexual partner about what they both like and don’t like. You establish hard limits, and you disclose any information that is important for a sexual partner to know beforehand.”

Legolas was uncomfortable, but Gimli assured him that this knowledge was an important factor in being able to consent, so they both shared as they walked upstairs. 

Once at the top of the stairs, Legolas froze. “I don’t want to do this in my room. Can we use the guest bed?” 

Gimli nodded. “If it makes you more comfortable, sure.” 

Once in the bedroom, Legolas began fidgeting with his shirt hem again. “So now what?”

“Well, what do you want to try? We could use hands, mouths, or even try anal. We could start with one and move to another, if you want to see how each feels.” 

Legolas licked his lips nervously. “Okay. Let’s do that. Can I blow you?”

“Sure, but slow down, lad. It doesn’t have to be all dicks right away. Let’s ease into it.” Gimli pulled Legolas close and then sat him on the bed. They were almost eye to eye, and Gimli pulled Legolas in for a soft kiss. 

“Tell me something, Legolas.” He whispered between kisses. Legolas hummed softly into his mouth as affirmation. “What made you decide to kiss me?”

Gimli moved to nibbling on Legolas’s ear to give him his lips back.

“You looked so concerned, but like you were worried you had hurt me. I was worried I had driven you away by running earlier, and I was so relieved that you came back. It was too muddled, so I panicked and kissed you.”

Gimli nuzzled closer to Legolas, his beard tickling the blond man’s ear. Legolas shied away, but then leaned back in as Gimli moved down to kissing and biting him gently on the neck. The man’s dratted hood kept getting in the way, so Gimli hummed questioningly as he tugged at the hem of the shirt. Nervously, Legolas pulled the shirt over his head. His arms were still in their sleeves when Gimli grabbed Legolas’s face and kissed him on the mouth. Legolas threw the shirt in the corner, and then helped Gimli out of his own shirt, only breaking from the kiss to pull his shirt over his head. Legolas kissed down Gimli’s neck, on to his stomach, and slowly slipped from the bed to his knees, kissing down Gimli’s chest. He waited for Gimli to nod an affirmation before unbuckling Gimli’s pants and pulling them down, quickly followed by Gimli’s boxers. It was the second time Legolas had seen Gimli’s dick, but it was the first time he let himself look at it. It was standing at half mast. When Legolas brushed one hand down it, he felt Gimli shiver a bit. 

“Have you ever done this before, lad?” Gimli asked, gently running his fingers through Legolas’s hair. 

“No,” Legolas admitted nervously as he slowly stroked the shaft of Gimli’s cock. It grew under his ministrations, and Legolas gulped nervously. 

“Go slow, don’t choke, and please, for the love of all that’s holy, don’t bite.”

Legolas chuckled. “Do you speak from past experience?”

“More than once.” Gimli said gruffly, gently swirling his hips in small circles as Legolas spit in his other hand and began to stoke harder. After a moment, a bead of precum formed on the tip, and Legolas leaned in. Gimli smelled like musk and sawdust and sweat and coffee. It was a heady blend and Legolas gently licked around the head of Gimli’s dick, before running his tongue down the underside of the shaft before coming back up and taking the tip in his mouth. Gimli’s grip in his hair tightened, and it wasn’t unpleasant. With every gentle tug, Legolas could feel his own cock straining against the stretched cotton fabric.

“Gently, lad. You don’t have to take the whole thing. You can use your hands on the shaft and just let it hit the roof of your mouth. Most dudes won’t know the difference anyways.”

Legolas took the hint, and was grateful. He wasn’t sure where the length of the dick was supposed to go if he didn’t use his hands. 

It was awkward and the sounds Legolas made, slurping and smacking, made him feel weird, but Gimli was moving with him and moaning, and that made up for it. After a few minutes, Gimli pulled out of Legolas’s grasp.

“If you keep going, lad, I’ll be done for the evening.”

Legolas agreed - he was just getting started. He kissed Gimli’s groin to the left of his dick, the scratch of Gimli’s pubic hair different from the other tactile experiences Legolas had already had today. He didn’t love the feeling, but he was glad he tried. He tentatively reached behind Gimli. 

“Can I touch your butt? I’ve never touched another dude’s ass like this.”

Gimli pulled him to his feet and pushed him slowly back on the bed. “You’re a greedy little fellow, has anyone told you that?”

“No, add it to the list of firsts for today.” 

Gimli felt his heart swell, but it wasn’t sad this time. He leaned forward on top of Legolas and grabbed the thin hands before clapping them to his ass. “Grope away, mon ami!” He said cheerfully. Legolas scowled, and shook his head. “I don’t like calling it that. Can we rewind and try again?”

Gimli smiled, twisting Legolas’s fine hair between his fingers. “You may touch my butt, love.”

Legolas turned beet red and glanced away at the pet name, but obliged happily. He kneaded his thin fingers in the rounded muscle and fat, feeling the shape and pulling Gimli closer. Gimli followed his lead, thrusting slowly along Legolas’s abdomen in time with Legolas’s pulls. After a few moments of that, Legolas put a hand on Gimli’s chest.

“Not doing it for you, lad? We can try something else.” 

Legolas smiled, shyly. It felt nice to not have to say everything he wanted but to still be heard loud and clear. They flipped positions and Gimli began to kiss and suck on Legolas’ chest, thumbing one nipple while licking down Legolas’s chest. Legolas squirmed under his tongue, but when Gimli paused to ask if he was okay, Legolas just flashed a thumbs up. 

Gimli slowly tugged at the waistband of Legolas’s sweats and Legolas gave another thumbs up. 

Gimli pulled the pants down slowly, making sure to scrape his nails gently down Legolas’s sensitive skin, making the thin man jump. When the waistband cleared Legolas’s hips, Gimli pressed a kiss to the protruding pelvis bone. A little further, and Gimli realized that Legolas wasn’t wearing underwear. His swollen dick popped free with little encouragement and Gimli kissed Legolas’s thigh, the hairs thin and white. “Someone was prepared for this.”

Legolas rolled his eyes. “Arrogant. I happened to not have any clean underwear left.”

“Sure.” Gimli said before pressing a kiss to the back of Legolas’s knee. He removed the sweat pants completely, then rested his chin on Legolas’s thigh and looked up towards Legolas’s face.

Legolas propped himself up on his elbows so he could look over Gimli’s shoulder. It was easier than eye contact but let people know he was paying attention. “Why’d you stop?”

“You said you want to try it all, but we don’t have to do everything today. This won’t be the last time I ask, and we can stop at any point, but do you want me to fuck you?”

Legolas felt his breath catch in his chest. He felt like he should feel anxious about this, like the nausea should bubble up again, or his extremities should turn cold, or he should be sweating, but none of that happened. He felt safe. He could say stop, or ask Gimli to do something else, and it would happen. Gimli wouldn’t be mad if he said no; in fact he’d probably be happy that Legolas trusted him enough to enforce any boundaries. Legolas shook himself back into the moment. What if Gimli thought his silence was a no? “I would like that, I think.” 

Legolas knew he was cushioning his language again. He wanted to scream, yes, please, fuck me, but somehow it still came out as ‘I think’. Gimli pulled him out of his growing spiral by grabbing his hand. 

“I know it’s hard sometimes to say what you really want, lad, but I want to be sure that you really want to try.” 

Legolas could feel his eyes filling with tears. He wanted to say yes emphatically, but the words felt clogged in his throat. He couldn’t figure out how to just open his mouth and say what he wanted. 

Gimli seemed to understand that there was a struggle happening. “You can just shake your head. Do you want to stop?”

Legolas shook his head no, relief flooding his body.

“Do you want to try?”

Legolas nodded his head.

“We should have some sort of signal you can do if you want me to stop…” Gimli rubbed his chin on Legolas’s thigh while thinking, working the sensitive skin to keep the friction building between them. Legolas also thought for a moment, and then tapped Gimli’s arm three times before doing a thumbs down. Gimli laughed. “Works for me. Are the taps included?”

Legolas nodded. Gimli rocked back on his heels and then walked over to his duffle bag. Legolas watched with interest as Gimli pulled out a condom and a container of lube. He also got a towel, which he insisted Legolas put beneath him, even when Legolas complained that it wasn’t sexy. 

“I have to sleep on these sheets later, you can just imagine that the towel is a sexy throw or something.” Gimli laughed, poking and prodding at Legolas until he was in the center of the towel. 

Gimli squirted an impressive amount of lube on one of his fingers before lifting one of Legolas’s legs so it rested on Gimli’s shoulder. He rubbed the lube around Legolas’s asshole while using his other hand to stroke down Legolas’s thigh. He spoke the entire time in a low, gravely voice. He explained what he was doing and told Legolas how good he was doing and kept speaking. Legolas found it soothing to just sit back and let the words and the sensations wash over him. 

The lube was cold at first, but he acclimated and it felt nice. Gimli ran two fingers down Legolas’s taint, leaving a trail of lube behind. Slowly, the pointer finger swirled around the rim of Legolas’s ass, and then Gimli said, “I’m going to try.” He slowly pushed, and Legolas tried to relax as Gimli petted and praised him. After a moment of tension, the finger pushed through and Legolas felt himself tensing up. Gimli just held it there for a moment while he stroked down Legolas’s thigh. He continued the motion, stroking across Legolas’s balls to distract from the slight stretch. He continued to push, slowly working Legolas open. 

Legolas didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he held them over his head and fisted them into the comforter. He wanted more, for Gimli to move faster. Gimli could feel his impatience. 

“Slow down, love. We go slow for now. You’ll appreciate it later.” While whispering the comforting words into Legolas’s knee, Gimli slowly slipped a second finger in. He stopped where he was gently palming Legolas’s balls to add more lube, and Legolas was suddenly very thankful for the towel under him. Legolas felt his hips rolling in time with Gimli’s gentle thrusts and scissoring. 

It felt… odd. Legolas wasn’t sure how he felt about it so far. He liked Gimli touching him, petting him, saying such nice things to him. But it wasn’t the orgasmic experience that Legolas had read about when researching how gay sex worked. Gimli ran a trail of kisses down Legolas’s inner thigh, resting his free hand on Legolas’s stomach between his belly button and where his pubic hair started. 

His breath was warm and wet on Legolas’s thigh. “Can you take another finger?” 

Legolas nodded, grunting softly in affirmation. As before, Gimli slowed down and gently worked a third finger in, pausing to let Legolas get used to the stretch. This one took a little longer to get used to, but Gimli was gentle and kind. 

Gimli slipped his fingers out, and Legolas gasped. He hadn’t expected the empty sensation to feel like this. Still leaning into Legolas’s inner thigh, Gimli looked up towards Legolas’s face. “Can I?”

Legolas ground his hips down impatiently. He wanted Gimli to keep touching him, to fuck him. Gimli chucked and quickly tugged at his dick before slipping a condom down it’s girth. He lined the tip up with Legolas’s puckered ass hole and added more lube. “Tell me if it gets uncomfortable.”

Legolas was going to complain that Gimli was taking too long, but then Gimli leaned forward. It wasn’t enough pressure to penetrate, but this was different from fingers. Legolas could feel the pulsing warmth as he stretched and then the tip was in. Gimli moved to shift his hips forward more, but Legolas grabbed his wrist, needing a moment to adjust. 

Gimli froze. “Do you want to stop?”

Legolas could feel Gimli trembling between his legs. Gods, he wanted this, he just needed a minute to catch his breath. “Just wait.” He croaked out, breathing in deeply and trying to relax. Gimli held still for what felt like an eternity. He knew it was just a few seconds. He really wanted this, but even more he wanted to make sure Legolas was safe and in control.

Legolas wrapped his thin fingers around Gimli’s thick wrist, snagging arm hair and leaving white lines where his fingers ended and Gimli’s skin began. He gently pulled Gimli forward, and Gimli inched in at a torturous pace. 

“Hells bells, lad, you know how to torment a lad.” Gimli breathed as he was leaning over Legolas, his beard scratching against Legolas’s thin chest, leaving red splotches in its wake. After a second more, Legolas placed his hands on Gimli’s shoulders. “I’m ready.”

In turn, Gimli slowly pulled out and pushed back, gradually picking up speed until he hit a steady, regular pace. 

Legolas felt his eyes rolling back as his own hands roamed his chest, trying to find a way to shed the building warmth in his core. With every thrust, Gimli brushed against or around a spot that had all of the nerve endings in Legolas’s spine and belly tingling and firing. He could feel himself growing flush and needy, babbling incoherently back at Gimli’s stuttering praise. 

Finally, Legolas couldn’t take it anymore. He placed a thin hand around his own cock and began stroking it in time with Gimli’s thrusts. He had to close his eyes; there was too much stimulation happening in his body and he couldn’t look at Gimli without being crushed with sensations. He could feel something building, but unlike before, this sensation wasn’t tied to his dick. It felt like the tide coming in. The waves washed through his whole body before receding just to come back further in than before. 

Gimli tried to keep a steady pace going, but it was all he could do to focus on Legolas’s face. Legolas was whining, but in a way that made Gimli want to lean in and growl posessively while mouthing at his jaw and neck. While Gimli was all curves and planes, Legolas was sharp lines and shards. Gimli could cut himself on Legolas’s cheekbones and jawline. He had his hands above Legolas’s hips, his fingers digging in to give himself some stability as he thrust. He worried the thin lad would have bruises when they were done, he seemed so anemic, but every time Gimli tried to back off, Legolas ground down further.

Gimli watched as Legolas became unraveled. He went from stroking his own cock in time with Gimli to just kneading around his groin to fisting his hands in the comforter. His eyes were closed tight, but Gimli could see tears beading in Legolas’s long lashes. He was so beautiful, it made Gimli want to cry. He watched Legolas’s mouth working, trying to say something.

“What is it?” Gimli repeated over and over, trying to coax out whatever Legolas needed to say.

After a few seconds of his mouth moving silently, Legolas forced out a single word on repeat. “Faster.”

Gimli obliged, feeling his dick swell and tremble. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep this pace, but he’d do it for Legolas. He just needed to last about ten seconds more before Legolas’s back arched off the bed as he drowned under the ocean that was his orgasm. Gimli moved even faster, trying to extend the waves of pleasure rolling over Legolas’s body before he came, but he was right behind Legolas. He could feel that familiar prick of light behind his eyes that usually preceded his own orgasm. 

As Gimli was coming down, he looked at the beautiful man beneath him, still gasping and twitching. While Legolas had already had an orgasm, he still hadn’t ejaculated, and Gimli tentatively took Legolas’s dick in his hand. He gave it a gentle stroke, and Legolas grabbed his wrist. He paused, and then Legolas began to move his arm up and down and Gimli obliged, stroking at the pace that Legolas set. Legolas had a second orgasm, spurting cum all over his own chest under Gimli’s ministrations. This one was much less dramatic, no curled toes or arched back, but Legolas smiled up at him lazily, his hair splayed around him like a halo glowing under the yellow light of the guest room ceiling fan. 

“That was nice.” Legolas said, taking some deep breaths.

“Nice, lad? I think I died and went to heaven ten minutes ago.” 

Legolas laughed, but Gimli was serious. “I’m serious, lad. Pinch me, I’ll prove I’m dead.” He held out his arm, but Legolas just used it to pull himself in a sitting position. 

“I should shower again.” 

Gimli agreed. “How much would the girls hate us if I used their shower?”

Legolas rolled his eyes. “They’d kill us. You can just get in the shower at the same time as me. It’s not like I haven’t seen you in the shower before.

Gimli laughed, his throat dry and tired from the exertion. 

“Fair enough. Lead the way, love.” 

They tossed the used condom in the trash and threw the used towel on the floor, starting what would become a load of laundry that they washed after showering off. Gimli washed Legolas’s back in the shower, and Legolas cried at the gentle touch. Gimli pretended not to notice and wiped a few tears of his own away as Legolas lathered beard shampoo into his facial hair, carding his fingers through gently. 

After showering and throwing on the new load of laundry, Gimli watched as Legolas looked back and forth between his room and the guest room, then settled on a course of action. He brought a comb into the guest room and sat on the bed. He combed out his long hair and Gimli watched from the doorway as he braided it back in a neat fishtail plait. When he finished, he pulled a rubber hair band from between his teeth and secured the braid.

“Want me to do your hair as well?”

Gimli leapt at the chance. He loved people playing with his hair, though most of his previous boyfriends didn’t want to put the effort forward to learn how to braid. He massaged some beard oil in his facial hair as Legolas gently combed through his hair, taking care not to snag or pull unnecessarily. Legolas did a simple french braid, making sure to not miss any wisps of hair. Afterwards, Gimli leaned back, and Legolas pulled him close to his chest, resting his chin on Gimli’s head. 

Gimli started to ask what Legolas’s plans for the next day were, only to realize that Legolas was sleeping, hugging Gimli tight like some sort of overstuffed animal. Gimli smiled and leaned back, closing his eyes for. Just a second, he told himself as he too drifted off to sleep.

***

Gimli had to open the coffee shop again the next morning, but Legolas had seen him off with a kiss. After Gimli had left, walking off into the dim morning light, Legolas threw off the blanket from around his shoulders and bolted upstairs to dress for the day. He had to catch a bus.

***

It was a two hour greyhound trip, and many times Legolas considered just staying on the bus as it turned back around and went home. He would have done just that, except that there was a car waiting for him at the bus station. The driver greeted him, but didn’t say anything else until it dropped him off in front of the large house. It was bigger and emptier than he remembered. 

He shuffled up to the front door as the car pulled away, waiting for the driver to leave. He scuffed the toe of his converse against the brick door stoop, and then reached up to knock on the door. Before he made contact, the door swung inwards and Legolas was face to face with the house’s owner. 

“Hey, dad. We need to talk.”


End file.
